


Last Standing

by Mundivore



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Big Damn Heroes, Fusion, Future, Gen, Homeworld Bit Off More Than They Could Chew, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mundivore/pseuds/Mundivore
Summary: “Take them to pieces,” the gem commander ordered her soldiers. “And leave for me the last rebel standing. I wish to distinguish myself to My Diamond as her favored Heliodore.”In which Heliodore learns that it's not always a good thing to get what you wish for.





	Last Standing

“Take them to pieces,” the gem commander ordered her soldiers. “And leave for me the last rebel standing. I wish to distinguish myself to My Diamond as her favored Heliodore.”

There was a ripple of preparation in Homeworld’s ranks as the order was given, but then they were upon the rebel forces. Like a tide of violence, Homeworld quartzes washed into the impromptu fortifications that had been built to defend the pass. Steven looked to either side. Never had he fought with so many allies before—dozens of rebel gems joined him, Connie, and his family in taking up the defense. Never before had he been so outnumbered—there were at least thirty of Homeworld for every ally he could see, and more to come.

His friends were disorganized, discouraged. He saw even as the first of Homeworld hit their line where some were beginning to clump together, to panic, to lose hope. In a fight as uneven as this, hope was prerequisite to victory. Steven’s knowledge of this was instinctual, practiced. He knew that he needed to do something. He needed to restore hope.

“You heard what Heliodore said!” His voice rang out clear and powerful even over the rising din of combat. It carried across his side, echoing off the cliffs. “She wants to fight to the last standing!”

A Homeworld quartz charged toward him with a lance. He caught the hit on his shield, but was knocked into Connie before he could bring himself to a stop. She stumbled and fell, but Steven reached his hand back for her as he grit his teeth against the pressing attack.

“So if someone falls down…”

Connie grasped his hand, and a flash of pink light shone across the battlefield. Stevonnie took the place of the two children, sending their attacker flying back with a flick of their shield.

“Pick them up,” Stevonnie cried out, brandishing their blade, “And together, stand taller!”

◙

The rebels could not long stand against the press of Homeworld.

The fight had been meant as a desperate stand, to buy enough time for allies to arrive, for locals to escape.

Long-term plans never survived the pitch of battle. The fight became the struggle from one second to the next. How to survive for one second more, how to withstand the next wave, how to save a friend. The rebels found heroism in this desperation, acts of daring chaining together one after another, the unending prayer for one second more.

◙

Heliodore’s gloating observation of the fight became something first perplexment, then frustration, then panic.

The fight was meant as a decisive victory, a decapitating strike. Severe overkill, to end a potential rebellion before it began. A show of force, to discourage future rebels.

But long-term plans never survived the pitch of battle. First, the fight began to take too long. The rebels should have been whittled down to one within three minutes, eight at the very most, but still they persisted. Each time one was knocked over, hit with any degree of force, some other damnable renegade found a way to be at their side. Somehow, they had found unity in the course of battle. Unity enough to bring fusion.

Ten minutes in, Heliodore called for reinforcements. Her army would still win, even against the posse of three and four gem fusions, but there could be no room for error. Twenty minutes in, Heliodore called for air support. The rebels had broken free of the pass, and threatened to damage the colony infrastructure.

◙

The fourth wave of reinforcements arrived, combat robonoids dropping in from orbit like so many brutal comets. They would have been useful twenty minutes ago. Heliodore was waiting for more ships, now. The robonoids were brushed aside in the brawl between Homeworld’s elite pure-quartz fusions, each towering dozens of meters tall, and the remaining rebels. Heliodore was hesitant to report that there were only seven rebels remaining. That the rebels were outnumbered at over three hundred to one. Those things would ordinarily be good things, but she was worried that reporting those things would be taken as misleading when it was discovered that each of them had heights best measured in fractions of a kilometer. 

“Full charge ready,” her lieutenant reported to her.

“Concentrate fire on the tallest one!” Heliodore’s command still held the weight of a gem favored by the Diamonds. Her armada turned as a single body, and arcs of light lanced out to crash into the lead rebel fusion. She stumbled and roared as she staggered under the pressure, the beams of a hundred and some warships. The ground buckled before the fusion did, but eventually, both were compromised.

“Charge depleted,” the lieutenant warned as the beams began to die out.

It hadn’t been pretty, but it was enough. An alpha strike like that could be conducted every seven minutes, and if one fusion could be brought down each time, then there was hope for the fight to be shortly decided. Now, the robonoids had purpose again, the small war machines moving to swarm the fallen fusion, which glew on and off with the pressure of struggling to maintain composition. They would eliminate the rebels after the fusion came apart. After a hit like that, it would soon unfuse, and—

Another rebel fusion’s voice hit the battlefield like a shockwave.

“ **Keep it together!** ” A sweep of her foot sent the robonoids away, the air pressure alone scattering them like leaves, and she crashed into a forward-pressing formation of quartz fusions like a pick into ice, splintering the attack. “ **Stand fast!** ”

She reached her hand down to the fallen fusion, and there was a blast of light as something new swelled into being, over twice again the height of the enemy Heliodore had just defeated.

◙

Defeating this monster was a lost cause, beyond hope. A fusion of such magnitude had only ever been considered theoretically. A practical impossibility—no obstacle, no cause, no figure could ever be uniting enough to bring together eighty-two gems into a single fusion. Even using all gems of the same variety, small differences and imperfections between the fusors led to instability at eight gems, and impossibility by thirteen. And yet… 

“Get us out of the atmosphere,” Heliodore commanded. “I will direct the evacuation from Homeworld. There’s no point in staying here.”

The view below slipped away as  _ The Sun’s Triumph _ accelerated towards orbital velocity. As the ship neared its first rotation of the planet, Heliodore gave a parting message to the battlefield as it approached around again.

“Farewell, wretched rock,” she muttered.

Below, a flash of light answered. The light began to swell, and Heliodore’s eyes widened as she saw more and more of the glow take up the viewscreen.

“Warp now!” Her voice jumped up an octave. “Now, now, now!”

_ Crunch. _

The ship bucked and shook as it struggled to accelerate its new passenger to orbital velocities, dueling inertia and losing. Even a flagship such as Heliodore’s could not expect to so suddenly support the mountainous mass of the fusion. A brilliant halo of energy surrounded the inky black hand that grasped the ship’s bridge like the rung of a ladder, a multitude of arms wrapping together and around each other, supporting together the rippling humanoid form that extended out beyond it. The glowing gems of the fusion glittered darkly against their void-like body, like the lights in the night sky. On their otherwise featureless chest, emblazoned with iridescent glow, was the symbol of the rebellion: a five-pointed star.

“ **Leaving so soon?** ” The fusion’s amused query vibrated through the ships hull as the fusion pulled the ship down towards them, gazing down into the bridge. The fusion’s face was plain, compressed, the features muted and under-exaggerated. Cartoonish almost, and smooth like slate. Nearly indistinguishable from the void behind it, until the ship’s cannons lit up against it. Hot beams of energy traced uselessly across their face.

“Hold your fire!” Heliodore scowled into her console as she activated the ship’s loudspeakers. Nominally, they were designed for breaking the spirit of enemies, not broadcasting pleas. 

“Fusion,” she called out.

“ **Carbonado,** ” the fusion corrected. Their mouth was large enough to swallow the ship in two bites, and a second row of teeth behind their first glimmered as they spoke.

“Fusion, release this ship, and we shall surrender.” Heliodore grit her teeth so tightly it was a struggle to lie through them. Evacuation was already planned. No concession was being made. “We will leave this world to its natives.”

“ **Hm. I accept.** ” A smile spread across Carbonado’s face, shallow and subtle. “ **Though, do you not fear your honor will suffer?** ”

“At this stage, my honor is in danger only if I continue to waste resources on this pointless mess,” Heliodore spat over the groaning of the ship. “I will not send more loyal soldiers to their doom to sate your lust for combat. Release us, or the deal is off.”

“ **You mislead yourself, O Lustrous Heliodore,** ” Carbonado chided mockingly. “ **I merely wished to know if you would return to the surface, to fulfill your promise.** ”

Helidore’s eyes widened as she realized what they meant.

“ **I suppose not. Very well. Be careful what you wish for. Next time, I may insist.** ” With that, Carbonado released the ship, and  _ The Sun’s Triumph _ went hurdling past them.

When her ship limped past again on its way to high orbit, Heliodore caught only a glimpse of the titanic figure landing, gently against all odds, on the surface below: the last rebel standing, victorious against all of Homeworld.


End file.
